Rooftops
by midnightcat16
Summary: Orihime was five when she moved to Japan after her parents died. She was six when she started seeing things other people couldn't: one of them being a red-haired soul reaper perched on the rooftops.
1. orange crayons and red hair

**This is my first Bleach story. Thanks for reading! I actually have most of this written already and should be updating pretty regularly. Would love to know what you think ;)**

Orihime Inoue was five when she moved to Japan to live with her grandmother. Her brother, Sora, was in his last year of high school and was allowed to stay in the states to finish up his education. Orihime had just started Kindergarten and was learning her shapes, her colors, and how to write her name in large block letters at the top of her paper in orange crayon—her favorite color. When her parents died in a fatal accident, her brother was allowed to move in with a family friend next door in their spare bedroom, as their son had just left for college. Orihime would have gladly stayed in a cot in their attic if it meant she could stay too. Instead, Sora helped her pack up her essentials—her coloring books, her orange crayon, and her stuffed animals—as well as her unessentials, such as her clothes and toothbrush. She wrote the name on her luggage tag herself—ORIHIME—messily scribbled in orange crayon. Her brother wrote down her new address in Japan, once in English and once in a strange—albeit very beautiful—scribbly language.

Orihime was six and still struggling to learn Japanese when she saw her first soul reaper (though she would not learn the term for many years). On her very first day of school, her teacher had made her introduce herself to her new class in her broken Japanese. As a foreigner with orange hair, she was exciting to them, like an exotic animal on display at the zoo. But when they soon discovered this new attraction had as little ability to communicate with them as an actual zoo animal and even fewer tricks, they soon lost interest. Orihime sat in the back of the class (next to a boy with hair the same color as her favorite crayon) and struggled to learn the same letters she had seen her brother write on her suitcase months ago. Unfortunately, her teacher did not let her write her name at the top of her paper in crayon, and Orihime was forced to sit at her desk next to orange crayon-head, wallowing in the unfairness of her life.

Orihime's grandmother came to pick her up after school each day. On the long plane ride to Japan, Orihime had daydreamed about a tiny, wrinkled old woman with snow-white hair and a friendly voice offering her cookies. When Orihime, jetlagged and still clutching her brother's hand, had stepped off the plane in the Tokyo airport, she was disappointed. A tiny, wrinkled old woman had greeted her and her brother, but did not offer any cookies. In fact, she did not even speak English. Orihime communicated through hand gestures, one word sentences, and drawings. When she wanted something, she drew a picture of it, waved it in front of her grandmother's face, and pointed obstinately. It had a varying success rate.

When Orihime tried to communicate to her grandmother what she saw on her walk home from school that day, she did not have her crayons to help her, not the vibrant red she would have used to color his hair, or the charcoal black for the tattoos outlining his face and robe he wore. So instead she simply pointed at the object of her fixation, the one sitting on the school rooftops, looking up at the sky. Her grandmother glanced vaguely in the direction the child was indicating, smiled, and patted the young girl on the head, then turned toward the direction of home. Shrieking children ran past the pair, clutching their school bags and their siblings' hands. No one was pointing up at the rooftops as she was, no one was contemplating why a strangely garbed boy was sitting on top of the school building. At that moment, Orihime understood. She lowered her hand and followed her grandmother. Even if she could have found the words to communicate, she knew in her six-year-old heart of hearts that the fact that she could see this boy when no one else could made her special somehow and she decided to keep it a secret. It was a secret she carried with her at all times, and this secret gave her a sense of power and purpose—as if her new life in Japan was a riddle and she suddenly had found the answer, as if she was being held hostage and now had the key. This secret burned inside Orihime like the flame of a tiny candle that she used to navigate the dark corridors of her newly orphaned life.

Though Orihime's ability to communicate with her grandmother and her classmates significantly improved over the years, she kept her secret about the Boy on the Rooftops. Still, during art she found herself drawing stick figures with red hair and black clothes, as if her crayons had a consciousness of their own. She drew picture after picture, pressing her crayons forcefully into the paper until they shriveled to blunt ends. They shrunk as she sprouted up, orange crayon growing shorter as auburn hair lengthened. Her art teacher found her drawings "charming" and hung them up on the black board next to drawings of ninjas and stick figures in kimonos, her classmates' contribution to the world of art.

The years came and went. Sora visited seldom, choosing to send letters and gifts rather than deign Japan with his presence, pleading college as an excuse. Examining a pair of beautiful blue barrettes under the bright light of her desk lamp, Orihime almost forgave him.

The flame burned lower and lower, smothered by responsibilities of school work, social life, and the effort it took to stay in one piece. Orihime was on her way to becoming Master Artist, Baker of Strange Foods, and Caretaker of Elderly Grandmothers, and that left little time for dwelling on rooftop loiterers.

* * *

While Orihime did not consider herself to be of the "athletic type," many of her close friends were. She attended every Karate match her best friend Tatsuki participated in, cheering loudly and enthusiastically from the sidelines as Tatsuki relentlessly attacked her opponent, emerging from every match the euphoric victor. It was a brisk Saturday morning that Orihime was watching her friend Michiru compete in a soccer tournament, alone, as all of her other friends had obligations. Tatsuki was training for a big match next week, Ryo was preparing for her marathon the following day (which Orihime had also promised she would attend), Mahana was visiting her sick grandfather, and even Chizuru had family obligations. Michiru had been crushed to find out that everyone in her closest circle of friends had been busy, so Orihime gallantly offered to wake up early to attend, a fact she was berating herself for as she rushed to the soccer field late after oversleeping. Orihime was greeted with the sight of a crowded stadium—it was a heavily anticipated game: Karakura High was competing against their most bitter rival from a nearby school. Orihime gave up looking for a place in the stands and headed for a nearby hill to find a comfortable spot where she could sketch and watch the match in relative peace.

Orihime found a sunny spot against a tall tree and sat down, leaning against it and pulling out her sketch book. The players were taking a short break, and Orihime could see Michiru talking to her coach. Bored, Orihime glanced up through the branches, contemplating what to draw. Suddenly, the tiny wisp of a flame that had been shrinking steadily since it had been lit almost ten years ago erupted into a blaze as if it had been in a jar, choked for air, and someone had yanked off the lid. The sounds of the soccer match and the cheering fans yards away melted into a rushing in her ears as hazel eyes took in the image of the boy she had spent years drawing—red hair just as vibrant, tattoos black as charcoal and more numerous—how had she not noticed he had a sword? He appeared to be older than the last time she glimpsed him—a man now and not a boy. She was unsure if that was because he was older or just because she was.

Orihime could do nothing but sit and stare for a few seconds. Then, mustering up her courage and ignoring the frantic pace of her heart, she called out to him.

"Hey!"

He did not seem to hear. He was examining the soccer match with as much disinterest as she had a few moments ago.

"Hey! Red hair!"

Again, he did not react. Orihime wondered if he was so used to be unseen and ignored that he could not comprehend anyone attempting to initiate any kind of interaction with him. She stood up, brushed off her skirt, and turned around to face the tree.

"HEY! RED HAIR AND TATTOOS! I'M TALKING TO YOU!"

The man almost fell out of the tree in shock. He squinted downward to see what impertinent creature had rudely awakened him from his reverie and made him lose his balance.

"What's your problem?! Can't you see I was concentrating? Who goes around yelling at people in trees?!" The red-haired man sputtered indignantly. Orihime giggled at his sudden outrage. It was such a strange situation that she couldn't but laugh, a girl clutching her sketchbook, being yelled at by a man perched on a tree branch as if he were some kind of bird. The man blushed and jumped down from the branch he was balanced on, landing lightly on the ground.

The man grinned and apologized, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Sorry, I'm not used to people trying to get my attention. In fact, I'm not used to people being able to even _see_ me. You're the only human being that's ever spoken to me in this world," he explained.

Orihime's six-year-old self had been right. She _was_ the only one would could see him, and now talk to him. She hoped it meant it was because she had some special power, and not because she was just schizophrenic.

"How is it that I'm the only one that can see you? And what do you mean this world? And why were you sitting in a tree?" Question after question spilled out, years of confusion and longing for answers taking the shape of words.

He smiled, eyes full of understanding.

"Come, sit with me," he said, turning towards the hill.

No being, seen or unseen, real or imaginary, could have stopped her.

* * *

In actuality, Renji Abarai (as the man had introduced himself as) was not the only being Orihime could see that others couldn't. After dinner each night, her grandmother would watch an hour or so of television before going to bed. Sometimes talk shows, sometimes dramas, not that Orihime knew anything about what was happening, although she liked the exaggerated movements of the actors in dramas. This particular night, her grandmother was watching one of her favorite dramas and Orihime was similarly enjoying watching the main female lead sobbing and yelling at the main male lead when the news station interrupted the program with a report. The newscaster was in hysterics, and for good reason—she was gesturing to the street behind her, completely demolished and cracked inward, as if a giant had stomped a massive foot down on the concrete in a tantrum, leaving an imprint as if the street were made of clay. Smoke was rising from the scene and Orihime squinted in an effort to see what had caused it. She and her grandmother held their breaths while the smoke cleared and the newscaster kept on babbling incomprehensibly (to Orihime's ears) and—nothing. The newscaster calmed down, her grandmother relaxed and took a sip of tea. And then she saw it—the outline of a massive creature, blurred as if someone had taken an eraser to the edges.

The creature stood still for a moment, then opened its jaws and let forth the most horrifying scream Orihime had ever heard. The newscaster was still speaking and not running for her life for some unfathomable reason. _Move, move!_ Orihime willed the woman to hear her. _It's looking right at you!_ She glanced over at her grandmother, seemingly unperturbed, still sipping her green tea out of her favorite porcelain tea cup. On the television, the creature had begun to shift, its body solidifying, slowly making its way forward. Orihime's stomach clenched and then—a flash of red and black, another horrifying scream, and the creature vanished. The woman finished her report and the drama resumed. Orihime could not even listen to what the actors were saying, she was still in shock—her heart racing, adrenaline rushing through her body, unable to comprehend. No one had seen what she had just seen. Just like the boy on the rooftops, she had been the only who had been able to perceive him. She wondered if the two were related, if they both operated in the same strange universe where creatures wore masks and gave terrible screams and boys wore black robes and perched on the tops of buildings. She was confident if they did they must be enemies—she knew in the core of her being that these creatures were evil as sure as she was that the boy was good.

That night—and many other nights after—Orihime fell as asleep to the muted sounds of shrieking in the distance. Their screams became as familiar and common to her as a train whistle, an earsplitting noise subdued by distance, tearing its way into her consciousness as she floated between dreams and reality. She trembled in her state of almost-unconsciousness at the thought of ever meeting these creatures face-to-face and seeing her image reflected in their bloodthirsty eyes. She dreamed of it often, the imagined first meeting—standing on the cracked, rain-soaked concrete, looking up through the haze into the eyes of that beast, moving closer, dragging its body, until her dreams blurred and she melted into a puddle of nothingness and horror, soaking into street like rainwater. These were how her dreams played out, indistinctly, until they ended and Orihime awoke covered in sweat and terror.

In the ten years after arriving in Japan and Before Renji, she had never met one of these creatures—or hollows, as she came to learn they were called—outside of her nightmares. She had Renji to thank for that.

"It's a soul reaper's duty to govern the flow of souls between this world and the afterlife," he had explained. "Normal souls are easy to put to rest, but there are souls that have become corrupted and transformed into terrible beasts called hollows that wear masks and feed on the souls of people. The only way to save them is to destroy them."

"So you're here to fight these hollows?" Orihime's sketchbook lay in the grass behind her, forgotten.

"Yeah, mostly. It's not really common for soul reapers to stay in the world of the living for as long as I have, but for some reason, there have been more and more hollows lately. Multiple times a day I'm having to fight." He smirked. "Which is fine with me, otherwise I'd be bored. There's not much for me to do here."

"There are plenty of things to do here!" she protested. "The people are kind, and there's plenty of delicious food, like ice cream! And there are lots of bakeries…oh…" she paused, aware of his amused look. "I guess there's not much to do when no one can see you." She was quiet for a moment, in thought. "Well, I can see you! So if you ever get lonely you can talk to me," she spoke quickly. "I'm busy at school all day, and I have to study most evenings, but during the weekends I'm only busy helping my grandmother cook…" She trailed off, embarrassed.

He looked at her thoughtfully, then glanced back toward the field where the soccer match had long since resumed.

"I may take you up on that," he murmured softly.

That night she lay in bed, thoughts full of Renji and their conversation. They hadn't talked long after the game had ended, as Orihime had to go congratulate and celebrate with Michiru for their team's victory. By the time she had said all of her "congratulations" and "good job"s and could stop smiling and leave, Renji was already long gone, the hill where they had sat noticeably, achingly empty.

A familiar scream ripped through the night, and this time Orihime thought not just about the creature behind it, but the being she knew was already fighting it. She fell asleep and dreamt again that she was looking up at her hollow through the familiar haze, but this time she was not alone. Renji stood beside her, sword gripped in both hands, already moving to confront it. It fell easily, shrieking in pain and rage, disappearing into mist.

Orihime no longer minded the noise, or the dreams. If it meant she was now a part of the universe of these hollows, it did not matter.

Because it meant that she could finally be in the same world as her boy on the rooftops.


	2. learning to fly

Discovering that she was a part of this new universe did not change much, to Orihime's disappointment. She saw Renji infrequently and spoke to him even less. For weeks, life went on much as it had before. Orihime woke up early, walked with Tatsuki to school, cooked dinner for her grandmother (who seemed to be aging faster by the day), and studied late into the night.

That morning she met Tatsuki at her house on the way to school. Tatsuki was complaining about a test in math they were having the next day.

"So, my house tonight?"

Orihime was startled out of her reverie. "Sorry Tatsuki, what was that?"

Tatsuki sighed. "I was talking about our test tomorrow. You're doing so much better than me in math and I could really use your help studying. Want to come over after school? I'll feed you dinner."

Orihime felt her spirits lifting. She loved Tatsuki's mom's cooking, though her food was not as, well… as bold as Orihime's. "That sounds great! I'll call my grandmother after school and let her know. I could use some studying, too." Orihime had been having trouble concentrating on her studying (for reasons that had red hair) and was starting to fall behind.

The day ticked by slowly. It took all of Orihime's energy just to focus on what her teachers were saying. She was glad none of them called on her to give answers, because she would not have remembered if they were discussing the property of imaginary numbers or Shakespeare's _Hamlet._

They ate lunch under their favorite tree, the one with wide branches and a canopy of leaves thick enough to protect them from the bulk of the sun's harshest beams during the hot summer months, but fine enough to let in gossamer rays of sunlight during brisk fall days. Orihime sat in the grass beneath it, looking up at its branches fondly. It was this tree that had brought their group of friends together. Orihime had been friends with Tatsuki since elementary school after the short-haired girl had stood up for her when a few of her classmates were making fun of her broken speech. The two began to sit at lunch together every day and Tatsuki did not seem to mind that Orihime could not understand her; she spoke incessantly anyway. She helped her with her schoolwork and invited her to her house frequently (although it felt more like kidnapping in the beginning, since Orihime could not understand the invitation). With her encouragement, Orihime found the patience and tenacity to learn this difficult language and find her place in Japanese society. The two stayed firm friends throughout elementary school all the way to junior high school and spent the summer before high school gossiping about boys and feeling as mature as 15 year-old girls could feel.

The first day of class they brought their lunch and looked for a place to sit. The cafeteria was crowded, since it was hot and everyone wanted to sit inside, so they resigned themselves to sitting outside and finding a way to bear the heat. That was when they found their tree half-hidden behind the school, stretching up towards the sky, promising relief from the roasting temperature. They were sitting underneath it, congratulating themselves on their discovery when two other girls came over and asked if they could join—they were also freshmen and looking for a place to eat where they could escape the heat. Orihime and Tatsuki graciously assented, and the girls introduced themselves as Ryo and Michiru. Orihime recognized Ryo as the captain of the track team the year before: she was tall and had a runner's build. Michiru, a girl with short stature and short hair, explained that she just moved to Karakura town, Orihime guessed from near Osaka by her accent. By unspoken consent, the girls ate together under the tree every day, sweating in the heat under the canopy and shivering in the cold as their beloved tree dropped its leaves, exposing its naked boughs. Tatsuki and Ryo loved climbing and often found themselves halfway up its branches before even ten minutes of lunch had passed, soon to be shouted down by teachers on lunch duty walking by. Months later, Mahana and Chizuru would join them, oddballs that did not fit into any other social circles.

Today the topic of conversation was Michiru and her new crush on Keigo, an awkward, gangly boy in their class. Tatsuki could not handle it.

"Dozens of boys in our class, and you pick Keigo?! Why not pick an upperclassman while you're dreaming? He's not that cute and he's so obnoxious!"

"He _is_ cute!" Michiru protested. "And sweet! And he's come to every one of my soccer matches this season, which is more than I can say of other people," she said pointedly. Orihime remembered seeing him in the stands as she had looked unsuccessfully for a seat.

"Fine, fine," Tatsuki relented. "You're the one that has to live with your bad taste in men."

"And yours is better?" Michiru challenged. "Who do _you_ like, Tatsuki?"

Orihime hid a smile. For the past month, the only thing Tatsuki could talk about was Kaito, an upperclassman on the school's karate team. He was tall, attractive, and the only person Tatsuki couldn't beat to a pulp in less than a minute.

"Wouldn't you like to know!" Tatsuki teased.

"Tatsuki! Tell me!" Michiru demanded. "I told _you_ and had to deal with you making fun of me. It's your turn!"

Orihime watched with amusement as the two girls argued. Tatsuki loved baiting Michiru. It was so easy to get her to bite. Mahana turned and looked at the auburn-haired girl. "What about you, Orihime? Any boys you're dreaming about?"

Red hair flashed across her vision and she choked on her apple juice.

"Err, no. Not yet," she spluttered.

Mahana sighed, disappointed. "That's alright, I guess. It's only fall, so there's still plenty of time to crush on boys before the year is over. I myself am still in search of a worthy young man to be the object of my affection," Mahana declared dramatically.

Mahana carried on about the immaturity of 16-year-olds and the unfairness of the meager supply of dateable boys in their school, and Orihime agreed and nodded at the correct points, pretending to listen. Finally, lunch ended and the rest of the trickled by, as slow and deliberate as the constant drip of a leaky faucet.

After school, Tatsuki waited for Orihime to call her grandmother and tell her of her evening plans and assure her that she would be back before her curfew. The two girls walked the five minutes to Tatsuki's house in silence, wrapped in their thoughts.

When they arrived, they both procrastinated studying as long as possible, Orihime teasing Tatsuki's orange and white cat with a string, Tatsuki practicing her punches while admiring her reflection in a mirror. Finally, they pulled out their math books and began to focus. An hour later, Orihime was explaining a difficult to concept to Tatsuki when Tatsuki's mom called them to dinner: sukiyaki, a hot pot of meat and various vegetables dipped in raw egg. After a delicious dinner, Orihime and Tatsuki collapsed on the floor like roly polies and attempted to study more. Brains fried, they finally gave up what felt like hours later.

"That's enough," Tatsuki moaned. "If I have to look at another number, my head will explode.

She rolled onto her stomach and eyed the clock. "Crap! Sorry Orihime, I didn't realize it was already past nine. You should get home before your grandmother starts to worry. Want me to walk you?"

"No, it's alright," Orihime assured her. "It's only a ten minute walk—I'll be fine."

Tatsuki saw her to the entrance and Orihime thanked her mom for dinner again. She stepped outside, heart and stomach full of contentment, and looked back one last time as Tatsuki waved and closed the door, shutting out the world of light and belonging and delicious smells. The cool wind slapped her face as she began her walk home, stirring her from her sluggish daze. She passed by other apartments on her way through the complex. Some of the families had their curtains open and she caught glimpses into their evening lives—cleaning the kitchen or sitting at the table finishing up any last minute work before the morning. She wondered at how each apartment was like a miniature world, each home dealing with its own problems and triumphs, sorrows and joys.

She was startled from her reverie by the familiar shriek of a hollow miles away. Orihime was not frightened, but she picked up her pace. A minute later she heard another, closer this time, perhaps the same one. She walked faster, only a few minutes away from home. She relaxed when she heard it again, this time muted by distance.

She turned onto the last street. Every night before she fell asleep, she wondered at how thin the line was between reality and dreams. It was a line she could never put her finger on; she was never sure of the moment when she stopped thinking and started dreaming. Right here, right now, there was no line, no mark that she had stepped over to signify she was entering one of her dreams, one of her nightmares. Because when Orihime turned the corner onto the last street before home, she found her hollow. Not the same hollow she had seen on television all those years ago, sitting in the comfort of the kitchen with the smell of dishes just cleaned and tea just made. This hollow was at least twice as large, its edges as sharp and clear as the outlines Orihime gave her drawings in black marker. It gave an earsplitting scream that Orihime could feel in every fiber of her being. Melting into a puddle of terror would not help her escape this beast.

Her entire being screamed at her to run, but she was frozen in place. She locked eyes with the creature and they stared at each other motionlessly for what felt like an eternity. Then, it began to move slowly and deliberately towards her. Every particle in her being cried out that it wanted this creature to be as far away from her as possible. Every step it took closer filled her with dread, but still she could not move. Finally, it was close enough that she could see it in detail: its sickly yellow eyes, ivory white mask, mouth split into a horrifying grin, close enough for her to reach out and touch. Its presence was overwhelmingly evil, leaving a repulsive taste in her mouth that made her feel sick. It reached out a long, pale arm and lifted her off the ground, slamming her into the wall behind. Stars exploded in her vision and she fell to the ground, stunned. She heard a voice in the distance, muffled as if she were submerged underwater. Her hearing cleared and she heard the voice again—panicked this time. Then she felt a force collide with her side and she was flying, flying, pain gone, connected by a thread to her body. She was in another world thousands of feet in the air, a kite linked to the earth by a single strand. She heard a man's voice calling her name (Renji?) and she cracked open her eyes to a very bizarre scene. She was on the ground after all, a few feet away from where the hollow first grabbed her and was still standing over a crumpled body that looked exactly like hers. She was flooded with relief to see Renji, the owner of the voice, crouching defensively, sword in both hands and pointed at the hollow.

The hollow curled its hand into a fist and struck, knuckles striking solid ground as Renji dodged, leaping lightly to the side. The soul reaper sprung forward, leaving a deep gash on the hollow's outstretched arm. The creature howled in pain and rage and struck again, this time narrowly missing the soul reaper, slamming its fist into a building.

Orihime tried to lift her head, no longer feeling like flying. In fact, her body felt very heavy and she was having trouble breathing. She raised her hand up to her chest and her fingers collided with cold metal. She grasped it, examining the metal by touch. It was a chain: it protruded from her skin just below her neck, snaking toward the direction where the Orihime-lookalike lay motionless on the ground. She did not have much time to think about what the chain signified—Renji was still fighting.

The battle did not seem to be going well for the hollow. It was becoming increasingly enraged and desperate, swatting at the soul reaper as if he were a fly as Renji dodged with ease, slashing the hollow gash after gash. Finally, Orihime could see that Renji was preparing himself for the final blow. He leapt forward, dodged another swipe by the hollow's massive arm, and left a deep cut from the bottom of its chest up to the side of his neck. The hollow roared in pain and Orihime held her breath as the monster crumpled to the ground and slowly disintegrated into ash and mist. Renji sheathed his sword and walked over to where Orihime was lying on the concrete, still clutching the chain that protruded from her chest in disbelief. She doubted that there were many humans who had borne witness to such a battle and even fewer that had survived.

Renji crouched next to her and looked at her with concern. "Are you alright?"

"I—I think so," Orihime managed to reply. "What happened to me? What is this chain? And who is that lying over there?" She could not look away from the motionless form.

Renji followed her gaze. "That's you," he said quietly. "At least, your physical body. Somehow that hollow forced your soul out of its body. The chain is what connects you to your physical form. You're lucky it didn't break—you wouldn't be able to return to your body. And I would be performing a konso right now—a soul funeral that would send you to the Soul Society."

"So you're saying I can get back to my body?" Orihime searched his face for reassurance.

Renji nodded. He motioned for her to wait a moment, straightened up, and walked over to where Orihime's body was. He stooped, placed one hand underneath her back and the other behind her knees, and lifted her up. He carried her over to where Orihime was still lying on the ground.

He placed her body on the ground gently. "Can you move? All you have to do is touch your physical body with both hands and pull yourself in."

Orihime nodded. She pulled herself up on her elbows, reached out, and grabbed her body with both of her hands, pulling herself forward. Re-entering her body was not as difficult as she thought it would be; her physical form seemed to be pulling her spirit forward as if they were attracted to each other like magnets. Her spirit flowed forward, pouring into her body like water. It took only a few moments for her to reconnect, consciousness ebbing and then surging as if she were hundreds of feet underwater and ascending to the surface in an instant.

Eyelids twitched. She could sense an overpowering darkness mottled with the harsh lights of streetlamps overhead. And then, her sense of pain. Her back and side ached fiercely and she remembered being thrown to the wall and kicked aside by the hollow like a rag doll. She gingerly felt her side. No broken ribs. She sighed in relief. She was sure she would have nasty bruises the next morning, but those she could hide. An emergency visit to the hospital would be much more difficult to explain.

"Can you walk?" Renji asked. "We should get you home before another one comes."

"Yes, but I may need help getting—oh." Renji was already pulling her to her feet. He wound one arm around her waist in support. Orihime was secretly glad for the darkness that hid her reddening face.

"I'll help you home, since it looks like you might pass out if I don't," he said lightly, with a grin. He did not seem at all affected by the fight, as if defeating massive hollows and helping high school girls back into their physical body were things he did every day. For all she knew, it was.

The few minute walk to her house seemed to pass by unnaturally quickly. Orihime wondered if Renji had used some of his magic soul reaper powers to transport them instantly to her home.

"Here you are," Renji said. "Your grandmother won't be able to see me, so it's best if you walk in by yourself, if you can manage."

Orihime did not think to ask how Renji knew where she lived or who she lived with. She just nodded and blurted out, "Will I see you again soon? I have so many things to ask you. About that hollow, and the chain thing..."

Renji looked surprised by her outburst. He looked down the darkened street in the direction they had just come from and assured her, "I'll be nearby. There've been a lot of hollows showing up in this area recently, so I'll be close." He smiled and said, "I have a hunch you'll be seeing me again very soon." He let go of her waist and stepped back.

That moment the door swung open and Orihime's grandmother appeared in the entrance, the light from the hallway flooding into the street.

"Orihime? Is that you?" Her grandmother sounded slightly panicked. "I was worried that you weren't here yet, so I called the Arisawas and Tatsuki said you'd left a while ago." She looked Orihime up and down, eying her torn and dirty uniform. "Good heavens, child! What have you been doing? You look like you've been in a fight!"

Orihime's grandmother did not know how right she was. "Sorry, grandmother. I tripped on my way back and hurt my leg, so it took a while for me to walk back. I'll call Tatsuki and let her know I made it home alright." Her grandmother nodded and moved back into the house. Orihime stepped inside and grasped the handle to shut to door. Renji was already gone.

Orihime quickly called Tatsuki and told her not to worry, she made it home safely, she would see her bright and early the next morning. She made her excuses to her grandmother who was still fussing over her and escaped to her room. All she wanted more than anything was to take a long, hot bath and crawl into bed. Twenty minutes later, she was cocooned in her blankets, lights out, staring at the darkened ceiling. Despite the initial terror and shock of the evening and the magnificent bruises she would no doubt be sporting the next day, Orihime was not upset over what had happened. She was delighted that she had seen Renji again and happy that he had come to rescue her (though she did not flatter herself that it was just because it was her—she was sure he would have done the same for anyone else unfortunate enough to be attacked by hollows). She hoped this event would be the catalyst in their relationship—that since she had been the one attacked, he would make a point to stay in contact and answer her questions about this strange new universe (and protect her from future hollows). She lay contemplating the mysteriousness of soul reapers and wondering if she could ever learn to become one.

She fell asleep, blissfully unaware of the figure perched on her rooftop, observing the night attentively.


	3. hurricanes

"Orihime! Hurry up! You're going to be late for school!" her grandmother called from downstairs.

Orihime was looking in the mirror anxiously, shirt pulled up so she could examine the bruises on her back. They were very colorful and really quite lovely—a shade of purple and green six-year-old Orihime would have loved to color with her crayons. 16-year-old Orihime was less excited. She groaned. It would take weeks for it to heal completely. She was glad it was almost winter so that she would not have to worry about hiding it during swimming. She turned so she could get a better look at her side and caught her breath. Rather than the normal shade, this bruise was completely black, as if someone had taken the darkness of the previous night and sewed it onto her flesh. Juxtaposed to the paleness of the rest of her skin, it looked completely unnatural.

"Orihime!"

She let her shirt fall back into place and tucked it into her skirt. She grabbed her backpack and hastily tried to brush off some of the dirt from the night before as she rushed down the stairs.

"Goodbye, grandmother! Wish me luck on my test!" she shouted as she quickly slipped on her shoes and ran out the door, not waiting for a reply. She ignored the dull ache of her bruises as she hurried to Tatsuki's. Her short-haired friend was already waiting for her outside. She gave her a wink and fell in step with Orihime's hurried pace. Math was first period and she was determined not to be late.

The morning came and went. They were sitting under their lunch tree, eating their separate meals and complaining about the morning's test. It had been excruciating. Orihime had to pull the information out of what felt like miles under the surface of the earth. It seemed like ages ago that Orihime had studied with Tatsuki in her bedroom. She felt like a different person since then and she was; she had been attacked by a dangerous hollow and survived, though it was due to none of her own strength and entirely to Renji's. Still, there were not many people who could claim that.

Orihime paid little attention to the conversation surrounding her. None of the other girls seemed to notice; they were too busy grumbling about the existence of math. Only Tatsuki shot her a few concerned looks.

Dinner that evening was quiet, and Orihime quickly excused herself, pleading that she needed to study. She sat down at her desk, but did not even bother pulling out her books. She cradled her head in her hands and sighed, a sudden melancholy overtaking her. The reality of the situation was finally setting in. Nothing was going to change, she was never going to see Renji again, and life would resume its everyday tedium.

A tap on her window roused her from her thoughts. She turned her head and was pleasantly surprised to see her red-haired soul reaper, perched on the slender landing just outside her window, grinning cheekily. He looked much like a mischievous young boy playing hooky from school. She rushed over to the window to open it and stepped back to let him in, unable to keep the delighted smile off her face. He nimbly leaped in, and Orihime wondered if it were in the realm of possibility for soul reapers to be clumsy. (Renji would later assure her that it certainly was.)

"Renji!" She exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"I came here to check on you," he grinned in reply. "How're you feeling?"

"I've been better," she admitted. "I have a few nasty bruises."

"Are they… normal bruises?" he asked, suddenly serious.

She gave him a look of surprise. "How did you know?"

"Strange things happen when humans come into contact with hollows," he explained. "Live humans, not souls. After all, it's not very common that humans are able to see hollows." He paused. "Or soul reapers."

"I wonder why I'm able to?" Orihime mused. If being able to see hollows meant being beaten to a pulp, she would rather not.

"When was the first time you were able to see one?" Renji asked.

"When I was six," she said. She explained how she had been able to see a hollow during a news report on television, and how the reporter and her grandmother had been completely oblivious. She decided not to tell Renji that he was in fact the first otherworldly being she had seen (and that she had been completely obsessed with him since the age of six)—at least not yet. As casually as he treated her, she did not want him to think she was crazy.

"When I realized I was seeing things that they weren't, I decided to just keep it a secret. I didn't want anyone to think I was going insane," Orihime admitted. "Maybe I am. Maybe I'm just imagining everything," she half-joked. The bruise on her back throbbed, reminding her that she wasn't.

Renji rubbed his chin. "There've been a few instances where humans sometimes have this ability—humans with a large amount of spiritual pressure. I have no idea how they come by it though. Maybe it's passed down through the family."

Orihime thought about Sora. She sincerely doubted this ability ran in her family. There was no one she knew who was more secular and "world-minded" than her brother, someone who would try to win back her affection with gifts and empty apologies.

"Anyway, back to the hollow from yesterday," said Renji, redirecting the conversation. "I got there just in time to see him kick you. Did he injure you anywhere else?"

"My back, too," Orihime answered. "He slammed me into a wall. But that's not the bruise I'm worried about, it's the one on my side, I guess from him kicking me. It's completely black. It's bizarre."

"Try putting this on it," he said as he pulled out a small, brown bottle from his sleeve. "It's a salve. It's from the Soul Society, specially developed by the Department of Research and Development. It should make the mark disappear."

She took the bottle gratefully. "Thanks, Renji."

He sobered suddenly. "I'm just sorry I wasn't there sooner. I went to the Soul Society briefly to take care of a few things and I didn't think the situation would be bad enough that I would need to send someone to take my place. There have never been this many hollows coming to one area of the World of the Living—it's unheard of. My oversight caused you a lot of pain and almost cost you your life."

"Don't worry about it," Orihime assured him. "It isn't your fault. I'm just glad everything worked out alright."

"And I'll make sure it works out better next time," Renji promised her. Orihime did not doubt his resolve or his sincerity. "I'd better get going—more hollows to hunt," he said with a grin, as if he were anticipating his future battles. Orihime could not imagine enjoying such fighting. She guessed it suited him to his position all the better.

He started toward the window and Orihime blurted out, "Renji—you don't have to have a reason to come see me. You can drop by whenever."

He pulled himself through the window and balanced himself on the ledge. "Oh, I intend to. Besides, I've got to check on how that wound is healing. You'll see me again before you know it." With that, he dropped to the ground, out of sight. She walked over to the window and looked outside, not really expecting to see him. She didn't.

She closed her window and laid down on her bed with a sigh. Every time she talked to Renji, she left feeling as if a hurricane just passed by. He was definitely making her life much more interesting and she planned to keep it that way.


	4. the beckoning cat

Renji made good on his promise to check on Orihime frequently. He dropped by every few days to ask about her bruise and chat with her. Orihime was learning a lot more about the Soul Society, hollows, and about the duties of soul reapers.

Her wound _was_ healing, to her relief. The salve that she had been generously applying every day to the bruise, originally about the size of her two fists, was now about half that. And her other wish was coming true as well—that the hollow attack she had been forced to play victim to would be the catalyst in their friendship. Giving her the salve had been the reason he had come back, but now he was staying for reasons beyond those. The first few times he dropped by after his initial visit, he used the excuse that he was still checking on her and curious to find out how the bruise was healing. After that, he stopped giving a reason and just starting coming in through her window unannounced.

Renji was always pleasant with Orihime, but she could tell he had a few rough edges as well. She learned that he grew up in one of the poorest Rukon districts (which he explained were districts all souls went to right after soul reapers performed a konso), that he had gotten his tattoos after he graduated from the Soul Reaper Academy (who knew there was such a thing?), and that he loved fighting for the thrill of it. They frequently argued just for the sake of arguing—Orihime picking on him for his manners, or for always coming in through the window, and Renji pretending to be offended. Sometimes they talked, and other times he would recline on her window ledge, gazing off into the dark while she studied. (Renji had claimed that soul reapers had excellent night vision, but she accused him of pulling her leg, leading to another mock argument). Their meetings were frequently interrupted by the shriek of a hollow in the distance and Renji darting off in the direction of the noise. He always returned, sometimes as soon as fifteen minutes later, looking more alive than she had ever seen him.

Orihime casually asked Renji one evening after school if he remembered being alive. He stared at her a few moments, thoughtful, then shook his head. He explained that over time, most souls began to lose their memories of their first life. Orihime was determined that when she died, she would not let the same happen to her. She did not want to forget a single thing, not a single karate match where she cheered on Tatsuki, not the tree where they ate their lunch, not all of her failed cooking experiments that her grandmother helplessly watched her burn and ate anyway, and definitely not her cherished meetings with her red-haired soul reaper.

Though she knew she could do nothing to keep it from one day claiming her life, Orihime was determined that death would not steal her memories, too.

* * *

Months passed by in this fashion, fall slowly freezing into winter. Teachers handed out their last tests, assigned their final projects, gave their final lectures, and it was winter break. Orihime and Tatsuki walked home together after school, every breath visible in the chill air, their spirits resilient against the cold. They were discussing their plans for the upcoming week. Tatsuki had an aunt that lived in Osaka, and she had invited her sister, her niece, and Orihime to visit. They would make a vacation of it, taking the bullet train from Tokyo to Osaka that Saturday and returning the following weekend. They had been planning it for weeks and had spent their meager free time after school researching restaurants, shops to visit, and other places to sightsee. Orihime had never been outside of Tokyo, barring her flight from the states when she was five. Michiru was also taking the train with them as she was visiting her grandparents in Osaka and had given them plenty of advice on what shops to visit while they were there and recommended restaurants where they could eat okonomiyaki, a kind of fried vegetable pancake that Osaka was famous for.

Orihime could not contain her excitement and had started packing a week before. Renji watched with amusement as she tore apart her room, looking for anything she might even remotely need to take with her. Many buried, long-forgotten items saw the light of day again and Orihime spent half her time reminiscing about all of the objects she found and half actually packing. She found a plethora of art projects she had made in elementary school and an embarrassing amount of drawings. She found one of Renji, colored in messy crayon just a few days after seeing him for the first time. She pulled it out of the stack, debated for a few seconds, and shyly showed it to her friend, explaining the vision she'd had of him at six years old. He laughed louder than she'd ever heard and handed the picture back, beaming. She placed it back in the stack, face red from embarrassment and pleasure.

While sifting through all of the pens, highlighters, and other various office supplies in her desk drawer, Orihime found a pair of beautiful blue barrettes, a six-pointed snowflake gracefully formed on the end of each. It shone underneath her light just as brightly as the day she first received them—they had not suffered in the slightest from being thrown into her drawer and forgotten. On a whim, Orihime fixed them in her hair on her way out the door, after she had said goodbye to her grandmother and Renji (separately, of course). She did not want to explain to either where she had gotten them and why she felt the sudden desire to wear them so many years later.

She walked to Tatsuki's house early Saturday morning as the sun was just rising and the neighborhood was just starting to wake up. Orihime was wearing her favorite dress for the occasion, hidden underneath her heaviest coat and a thick scarf wrapped around her neck. She hoped the weather would warm up enough that she could at least take off her scarf. She got to Tatsuki's house ten minutes later and rang the doorbell. They invited her in for a quick breakfast (which she accepted, even though she had scarfed down a bowl of rice before she left). Orihime helped Tatsuki finish packing, which Orihime was not surprised to find she had left until the last minute, while her mother made onigiri for them to eat on the bullet train for lunch.

Finally, they managed to leave and hurried to the station to catch the train. They took the subway to Tokyo station and waited at the platform for their bullet train to arrive. Orihime was impressed at the efficiency of Japan's transportation system—every train arrived and left exactly on time to the minute. She felt sorry for a disheveled young man running to catch his train and narrowly missing it, shoulders slumped as he walked over to an empty bench near them to wait for the next one. Their train arrived and they waited a few impatient moments for the doors to open and let them in. Orihime's mother had gone through the trouble to reserve seats for the girls so that they would not have to worry about not being able to sit next to each other. The doors to the train closed, a woman's voice announced the upcoming stops, and the train sped off. The hours passed quickly as Orihime and Tatsuki played card games, gossiped and told jokes, and ate their onigiri as messily as possible. From time to time, conversation would stop and they would look out at the scenery in reverent silence—the snowcapped mountains, the vibrant blue ocean, the endless rice paddies—and Orihime would marvel at the beauty of this country she had created a home in. She thought back to her first memories of this place, looking out the plane window at this island country with a pit in her stomach, hating the derisive laughter at school, infinitely grateful Tatsuki for giving her a place to belong. She thought about her deceased parents that she barely remembered, the sense of loss and confusion she had felt at their deaths and sorrow she had felt for having to leave her home. Though she did not relish meditating on those events in her life, she looked from Tatsuki next to her to the view outside, and decided that everything had turned out alright after all.

It was mid-afternoon when they finally arrived at Osaka station, ready to stretch their legs and explore the city. Tatsuki's aunt, Aiko, was waiting for them at the entrance to the station and gave all three a massive hug before leading them to her car and helping them load their luggage. Tatsuki's mother took the front seat and the two sisters chatted while the younger girls sat in the back in companionable silence, every once in a while pointing out a shop or landmark they recognized from their research.

After about twenty minutes of driving, they reached Aiko's home, a little house crammed in between two others on the top of a hill. Aiko squeezed her car into her tiny garage and the four women carried their luggage into the house. Tatsuki immediately went to play with her aunt's two toy poodles while Aiko gave Orihime a tour. After an hour of killing time, they climbed back into the car and Aiko drove them to her favorite restaurant, lauding Osaka's wide variety of culinary specialties the entire way. They had a delicious dinner of okonomiyaki with yakisoba cooked in front of them on a giant griddle. Tatsuki and Orihime shared a massive one, chopsticks fighting each other for the last bites, savoring the unique flavor of the sauce and the crunchiness of the fried noodles.

After everyone was sufficiently stuffed from dinner, Aiko paid the bill (after Tatsuki's mom argued politely) and they left the restaurant. The sun was just starting to dip below the horizon as they explored the area and eyed many of the shops with interest. The two older women wanted to check out a clothing store a block away and Tatsuki and Orihime wanted to walk around more. They made plans to meet up at the same spot in a half hour and parted ways.

The area was thronged with people. Young women walked by carrying shopping bags and couples held hands as they argued where to eat dinner. Tatsuki thought she remembered a store nearby where she wanted to visit, so she steered Orihime down a brightly lit alleyway away from the crowded street.

They walked for several minutes, taking several more turns before they found it.

"The Beckoning Cat," Orihime read. "Good choice, Tatsuki."

"Thanks," said Tatsuki cheerfully and led the way inside. The shop was full of antique knickknacks and souvenirs. They were met by an elderly woman who seemed just as old as the artifacts she was selling. She greeted them enthusiastically, as if she were not used to having customers. Orihime and Tatsuki explored the cramped store, attempting to keep their giggling and cheeky comments under control, aware of the shopkeeper practically breathing down their neck. Tatsuki bought a tiny figurine of a cat to keep the woman pacified.

They stepped outside and Tatsuki checked her watch. "We have about ten minutes before our hour is up," she said. "We should head back."

It was fully night by this point, and the darkness swallowed their surroundings. A few streetlights were placed haphazardly down the alleyway, miniature beacons guiding their way back to their meeting point. Orihime hoped Tatsuki remembered the way back.

The girls walked in silence for few steps, then Tatsuki turned to Orihime and asked, "Where are you going?"

"Err, now? I thought we were going back to meet your aunt and mom."

"No, I mean in the future," Tatsuki clarified. "After you graduate. Are you going to stay in Karakura town? Or will you leave?"

Orihime glanced over at Tatsuki. Her friend was suddenly quiet and thoughtful. Orihime wondered what had brought on this sudden change of topic.

"I haven't really thought about it," Orihime admitted. "But I can't really imagine going far. I mean, my grandmother is getting older and someone should take care of her…" She trailed off. She felt a strong sense of loyalty to her grandmother for taking her in all those years ago and providing her with a home. She felt duty-bound to take care of her in turn when she became too old to look after herself, which Orihime privately thought would happen sooner rather than later. But if she was completely honest with herself, that was only part of the reason. She had gathered from her conversations with Renji that he had been assigned to protect that town and could not leave except when ordered to do so.

"You should go," Tatsuki said abruptly. Orihime looked at her friend in surprise. Tatsuki turned and smiled at her. "Go and have adventures. Eat crazy food. Travel. Fall in love. Your grandmother has plenty of people willing to take care of her when she needs. I think she would want you to go."

Triggered by Tatsuki's words, a memory began to play in Orihime's mind like a scene from a movie. It was a few years after she arrived in Japan and was finally beginning to grasp the language. She was at home and her grandmother had invited one of her ikebana friends over to drink tea and chat. The two old women were kneeling on faded blue cushions at the table, grasping their tea cups and sipping from them daintily when Orihime happened to walk by the room and heard her name mentioned. The sliding screen door to the dining room was partially shut, and Orihime tiptoed over and crouched next to it, listening intently.

"What a lovely young girl your granddaughter is! And what unusual hair color!" the visitor exclaimed. "I wonder what her teacher and classmates think."

"Yes, Orihime sometimes has difficulty fitting in at school, I think. But she loves art and she is always drawing. It seems to make her happy," grandmother replied. Orihime was producing multiple pictures a day and gave most of them to her grandmother, who had attached many of them to the refrigerator and even taped a few of them to the wall. They were frequently an object of conversation when people came to call.

"Yes, what lovely pictures! Perhaps she will be an artist one day. She is very talented," grandmother's friend said.

"You are very kind," smiled grandmother and said modestly, "She still has much to learn."

"I know a very good art school in Kyoto she could go to. Or maybe even go back to America to learn! How lucky that she can speak English."

Orihime was stunned at this sudden suggestion. She could become an artist and go anywhere, to any place. She could go back to America, to where her brother was. The idea gripped her and she thought about how if she could just get back home, her life would go back to normal. But as adventurous as she was, she was also very practical. That night as she lay in bed thinking back over the eavesdropped conversation, she knew that nothing would be the same if she left for her home country. It was not home anymore. Her parents were dead and her brother had not spoken to her in months. Her new place was in Japan, in Karakura town where Tatsuki had just taken her in under her wing and her grandmother was teaching her how to cook. She could not leave.

But for the first time, Orihime actually considered it. She imagined all of the lives she could live and all the places she could go and she felt an intense longing rise up in her being and take hold. She could become a pastry chef, or a teacher, or open up an ice cream shop. She could be an artist and study in America or in Europe. Hell, she could go to Antarctica if she wanted and research penguins. She could go anywhere in the world and the only thing that was stopping her was herself.

Orihime looked at the girl urging her to go and felt sadness mingled with longing. "I want to go on adventures," she admitted. "But I want my friend Tatsuki to come with me."

Tatsuki shook her head. "I belong here."

"And I belong with you," Orihime declared before Tatsuki shook her head again.

"Maybe you do. But I think that's something you have to find out for yourself. I'll always be here. Go, and then come back. I'll wait for you."

The two girls shared quiet smiles and began to head back in the direction they came from. It was starting to get much colder and Orihime wished she hadn't left her scarf at Aiko's house. They could see their breaths in front of them. A few more turns and they would be back on the main road. They picked up their pace, breathing on their fingers to keep them warm, chiding themselves for forgetting to bring gloves.

Cold. It was unnaturally cold. And dark. The lampposts no longer seemed like beacons, but tiny will-o'-wisps flickering mockingly in the darkness. Every breath Orihime took brought a sharp pain in her chest. Her feet were bricks, her arms lead. She could not feel them. The streets should have been covered in ice, the lampposts' steel beams frozen solid. But everything looked as it should have been.

Orihime turned to look at Tatsuki and get the girl's attention, to ask with her eyes if she felt the sudden change in temperature. As she began to turn, she felt as well as saw a shape move, a quiver across the edge of her consciousness and vision. Tatsuki's eyes were wide, frozen in surprise, and Orihime wondered if she could sense it too.

"Let's hurry," Orihime urged her friend, but Tatsuki was immobile, feet frozen to the concrete.

"Orihime—" Tatsuki began, but was interrupted by a shriek that chilled Orihime to the bones, to the core of her being.

Hollows.

Dozens of shrieks split the air, overlapping in a terrible cacophonous melody. Nails on chalkboard, infants wailing, these were the sweetest sounds compared to this.

She could just barely see them, their forms only just visible past the edge where the light from the streetlamps touched the darkness. Eyes glittered, reflecting an ancient, insatiable hunger. They were a pack of wolves eying rabbits who had stumbled into their den.

She knew that this time, miles away, Renji would not come to save her. She thought back to all that he had told her about these creatures and how they viciously devoured their prey, dooming their quarry to the same excruciating cycle of voracious hunger and eternal hunt. Her eyes flicked over to Tatsuki, who was in the same petrified position from a moment ago. She hoped to God that her friend could not see these creatures and would be spared, but from the terror evident in her eyes, she could tell the hollows were all too visible.

It was the same game she had played last time. Eyes locked for an eternity while the creatures savored their victory. And, surrounded as they were, this time there would be nowhere to run, even if they were capable. She blinked, and in a blur of movement Tatsuki was on the ground, a hollow crouching over her. The girl did not cry out, did not make a noise. Eyes remained wide open, full of shock and disbelief.

"Tatsuki—" Orihime started to scream, but her cry died violently on her lips as she felt the breath ripped out of her lungs. A sudden overwhelming presence behind her engulfed her, froze her in place. Her legs wouldn't move, her body wouldn't stop shaking. She waited for the end.

And waited.

Suddenly another presence appeared, just as tremendous and awe-inspiring as the one behind her. But this presence did not evoke terror or dread, but relief. She heard a crack, and the hollow screeched in pain. Orihime felt it disintegrate into nothingness. Another blow, and the creature crouching over Tatsuki was gone.

One by one, the hollows blocking both ends of the alleyway retreated into the darkness, not wanting to approach this new threat. Orihime fell to her knees as if all of her strength had been sucked out of her body. She managed to turn her head and examine her rescuer.

She recognized the black robe, but the man did not have red hair. It was just as unusual, though, being pure white and quite long, and matched the long, white robe he wore over his garment. He turned and walked towards Orihime, giving her a kind smile.

He crouched down so that he would be at eye-level. "Are you alright?" he asked with genuine concern.

Orihime nodded. "I'm alright," she managed to say. "But my friend…"

"Ah, yes," the man said, looking over at Tatsuki sympathetically. He stood up and walked a few feet away to where Tatsuki's prone form was lying on her side. He knelt beside her and placed his hand on her forehead and closed his eyes.

"Your friend is not injured, just unconscious. She'll be fine."

His voice was so confident and reassuring that Orihime could not help but believe him. She let out a sigh and the knot in her stomach loosened a little. The man walked back towards Orihime and plopped down beside her.

"Whew!" he exclaimed. "I haven't fought hollows of that caliber in a long time. I'm getting a little rusty."

He seemed completely at ease, despite the exceedingly dangerous situation he had just saved Orihime from. He leaned back against the wall and placed his sword in his lap. Orihime stayed silent, having no words to express her shock and disbelief at what had just happened. The white-haired man seemed to understand.

"You must have been terrified," he said sympathetically. "Don't worry. They won't attack as long as I'm nearby."

"Who… who are you?" asked Orihime hoarsely, finally managing to find her voice.

"Jushiro Ukitake, captain of squad thirteen," the man answered cheerfully, as if this were any other normal meeting. "Pleased to meet you."

Orihime found her manners and introduced herself tiredly as well. "Orihime Inoue."

He smiled in greeting and suddenly became grave. "I wish we could have met under different circumstances, but I'm afraid I came here on a very serious mission." He paused, as if he were searching for the right words. "I'm here to take you to the Soul Society."

Orihime frowned, her mind blank. "The Soul Society? What does the Soul Society want with me?"

The white-haired man sighed. "I wish there were an easier way to say this, but I'm afraid you've become too much of a risk to be left in the World of the Living. Your very presence is causing chaos."

Orihime reeled. Chaos? What had she done? What crime had she committed by existing? All she had ever wanted was to fit in, to find her place in life. She had found friends, people she cherished dearly and would do anything for. She could not recall ever doing anything to put anyone in danger.

"I don't understand," was all she managed to reply.

"It might be easier for you to just see for yourself," he said simply, nodding at her.

Orihime stared, uncomprehending.

"Look at your hand," he said gently.

Orihime glanced down at her hand. Her heart leapt to her throat to see her palm and a section of the back jet black, the same ink-colored hue as the bruise on her side had been. Heart racing, she pulled back her jacket sleeve as far as it would go. The blackness left patterns on her skin, spreading up her arm, she assumed to meet with the original bruise on her side.

It was spreading.

"What's happening to me?" she asked, voice shaking.

"You were touched by a hollow. When a hollow touches a human's bare skin, it leaves a mark. Left untreated, the mark attracts other hollows to it, like a beacon. It's only a matter of time until that human is attacked again and devoured."

"It wasn't left untreated, I had a salve!" Orihime protested. Ever since Renji first gave her the salve, she had been applying it religiously and generously to her skin. But now she remembered with a pang that it was sitting in one of her drawers at home, lost in the packing fervor she had gotten wrapped up in. She could not remember the last time she had used any—but surely it could not have been long enough for the bruise to spread as much as it had.

"Depending on the spiritual pressure of the hollow who gave you that wound, it may not have been enough. Judging by how it's spread, it seems its pressure was very large. Not to seem harsh, but I'm surprised you've survived this long with that mark."

Orihime thought back to the time period after she had been attacked. She had been distracted by her new friendship with Renji, but upon reflection, she remembered him mentioning more than once about an unusual amount of hollows in her town. Was that because of her? Had she brought all those hollows to Karakura town? She looked at Tatsuki, prone and lifeless on the ground. She was not a rabbit, after all, that had stumbled into a den of hunger-crazed predators. She was the bait that drew them to her, and put Tatsuki in danger in the process.

"So what now?" she despaired. "What do I do about this?"

"That's why I'm here to take you to the Soul Society," he said reassuringly. "Our healers are very skilled. I'm sure they'll be able to find a way to cure you. But we should go sooner rather than later. Until you leave with me, the hollows will not stop hunting you, and the people close to you will remain in danger. You can't see them, but the hollows from earlier are still nearby. I can sense them, waiting for me to be gone. We should leave immediately, before even more hollows are attracted to this area."

"What about Tatsuki?" Orihime asked anxiously. "I can't just leave her. And I have people that are waiting for me that will be worried."

"Your friend will be fine. She's not injured, and she'll wake up the moment we leave. I've erased her memories, as well as the memories of the other two who are waiting for you. They won't remember that you came here with them. And the hollows will not attack once you are gone."

Orihime was dismayed to think that Tatsuki would not remember their trip together (though it had not lasted very long), but was relieved that no one would be worried about her. Her grandmother was not expecting her for a week and would have no reason to think Orihime was in any trouble.

"Alright," she said. "Let's go."

Ukitake nodded and stood up. He unsheathed his sword and very deliberately stabbed the air and the blade disappeared from sight, as if he were piercing an invisible enemy. A keyhole formed around his sword and he turned it and pulled the weapon back. A Japanese-style sliding door appeared and blurred into focus. The sight was striking, beautifully lacquered wood outlining rice paper as white as snow. Juxtaposed with the dank, dirty alleyway where they were standing it really did look like a gate to another world. The door opened and light spilled out onto the street, momentarily blinding Orihime. Ukitake looked back, waiting for her.

Orihime glanced over at Tatsuki, then stood up and strode towards the door with resolve. She walked into the light and Ukitake followed, the door shutting behind them, whether by his doing or by a will of its own.

For better or for worse, she was going to the Soul Society.


	5. fix me

Orihime lay awake in bed, examining the intricate patterns on the ceiling. The Squad Four hospital where she was staying until she healed completely was just as elegant and immaculate as the rest of the Seireitei.

The Soul Society was not at all like Orihime expected.

Admittedly, she did not have much of an idea of how it would be. She knew three things about the Soul Society: that soul reapers lived in a place called the "Seireitei," that souls traveled there after a konso to live in the Rukon district, and that there was a special academy for soul reapers-in-training. Renji spoke a lot about soul reapers and their duties in governing the flow of souls, but the outlay and inner workings of the Seireitei were something he had remained tight-lipped about, as if he had been given some kind of gag order.

She knew they were in the Seireitei as soon as they arrived. The information Renji had given her about the Rukon districts did not fit with what she had seen in front of her: elegant traditional Japanese-style buildings, tall, white watchtowers with curved roofs, and tidy, well-swept streets paved with white tile. She had also noted with interest a tall, white tower stretching towards the sky, overshadowing a massive cliff. These two landmarks seemed to be the center of the city, a detail of which Orihime had made a mental note.

Everything seemed so orderly, so regimented. There were not many people in the area, but the ones she had seen were dressed in the same uniform: black robes, white socks, and sandals. The atmosphere was not hectic, but everyone strode about with a sense of purpose.

"Welcome to the Seireitei, home of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads," Ukitake had announced pleasantly, confirming Orihime's suspicion about their location. "There are thirteen major barracks scattered about the city. I am the captain of Squad Thirteen, so we'll be heading to the Thirteenth Division Headquarters. I have to report to the Captain-Commander, so I'll be leaving you in the care of my subordinates, who will take you to see Captain Unohana."

He had strode forward, leaving Orihime to follow behind. The Seireitei appeared to be laid out like a giant maze, but he seemed to know where he was going. After several twists and turns, they came across a building with the kanji for the number thirteen elegantly painted on its front entrance. There was no doubt that this was his squad's headquarters.

From there, Ukitake had left Orihime in the care of two of his subordinates: a young woman with short brown hair wearing white gloves and a burly man with black hair and a thin rope tied around his forehead. They introduced themselves unreservedly and energetically as Kiyone and Sentaro, and seemed to have an ongoing friendly (or not so friendly, Orihime couldn't tell) rivalry, somehow managing to turn a simple introduction into an argument about who Orihime could rely on most. The two had escorted her to the Squad Four hospital, talking her ear off the entire way. Orihime learned that Unohana was the Captain of Squad Four, an apparently kind and lovely woman who was also terrifying, that Ukitake was (in their humble opinion) the best captain out of all of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads, and that he was frequently ill. Orihime wondered how the two found themselves under the authority of such a gentle, soft-spoken man, and privately thought that he must have had the patience of a saint to put up with them every day. The pair could not have been more different from their captain than night and day.

Thankfully, the two were content to chatter about themselves and did not ask any questions. Orihime kept her sleeve pulled over her hand as far as it would go, not wanting to invite any questions about her strange bruise.

They arrived at the hospital and Sentaro informed the secretary that Orihime was under their captain's authorization and needed to see Captain Unohana as soon as possible. Orihime was escorted to a private room to wait, and Sentaro and Kiyone energetically waved and shouted goodbye.

Orihime waited in silence, wondering about how strangely her day had turned out. It had started with her favorite dress, an extra breakfast, and a trip to Osaka, and had warped suddenly into an encounter with hollows, a doorway to another world, and a meeting with a white-haired soul reaper. She had now officially met four soul reapers. The fifth that she met, Unohana, Captain of Squad Four, was not as scary as Kiyone and Sentaro had insinuated. The woman entered the room and calmly introduced herself.

"So you are the girl who bears the mark of a hollow," she said in a serious, but kind voice. "Let's have a look at it."

She helped the girl take off her jacket and dress, leaving her in a thin undershirt. She examined the bruise professionally, asking Orihime to describe her encounter with the hollow. She told the story as best as she could, though leaving out unimportant details about how her red-haired friend had half-carried her home. Unohana was especially interested in the fact that the blow that gave her the wound also forced herself out of her body.

"You did not have any trouble reentering your body?"

"No, it felt natural. And the bruise wasn't that large to start with, only about this big," she explained, indicating the size with her hands. "It wasn't until today after the other hollows attacked me that I noticed it had spread all the way up my body. I'd been putting a salve on it that a friend brought me and it worked for a short while, but maybe it wasn't strong enough."

Unohana asked more questions about the salve and Orihime tried to answer as best as possible.

"How strange that the first hollow was even able to sense you with those barrettes you were wearing," Unohana mused.

"These barrettes?" Orihime asked, bringing her hand to feel the six-pointed stars affixed to her hair. "Why would they have helped me?"

"They are from the Soul Society, are they not?" Unohana asked. "An invention by the Department of Research and Development, given to humans with exceptionally strong spiritual pressure to keep them hidden from hollows."

Orihime couldn't believe her ears. "That can't be right," she protested. "These were given to me by my older brother, Sora. He doesn't have any connection with the Soul Society. He's human, not a soul reaper!"

"Perhaps," Unohana said. "But whether or not he knew what they were when he gave them to you, they are meant to protect the wearer. Where you wearing them when you were first attacked?"

"No," Orihime said with a pit in her stomach. "I only just started wearing them today…"

Was this true? If she had been wearing her present from Sora on the day she had first encountered that hollow, she would not have been attacked?

"Well, it's not surprising that they didn't hide you from the attack today. Their power would not be enough to hide you while you have this mark."

"Can you heal it?" Orihime asked anxiously.

Unohana smiled. "Of course, and it won't take more than a few days with me healing you. But I will insist that you stay in the hospital until you are completely better, just so that we can keep an eye on you."

Orihime agreed, and was given a bed to spend the night after her treatment.

* * *

Renji was bored.

Sure, being invisible had its perks. He could go anywhere, listen to any conversation without anyone knowing. But humans were so dull and their conversations were duller. Even a city as large as Karakura Town would get boring after years of guarding it and wandering its streets like a ghost.

It had been days since Orihime had left town and days before she would be back. She was the most interesting thing that had happened to him in years and he missed her company. He even missed the hollows that for some reason had started to disappear as soon as she did.

Most of the time, he perched in treetops or on top of people's houses. He liked being up high and being able to see the world from a bird's eye view. It kept him removed from the hustle and bustle of human life and put the world into perspective. When he was up here, all of the details seemed less important.

He sensed movement in the corner of his eye and tensed slightly. He relaxed to find that it was not a hollow, but a messenger from the soul society. The man crouched, head bowed respectfully.

"Renji Abarai. You have been summoned to the Soul Society."

Finally, something interesting.

* * *

Orihime spent the next few days wandering about the hospital (it was really quite large), chatting with the staff, and meeting with Unohana or her lieutenant Isane to continue her treatment. The "treatment" consisted of one of the two putting their hands on her back and focusing their power in some fashion. Orihime had no idea how it worked, but by the end of the first day, the bruise had shrunk and her hand was already back to normal.

Though she was not allowed to leave the hospital, Kiyone and Sentaro visited her at least once a day, and now that Orihime was not so overcome by anxiety and worry, she chatted with them easily. As outgoing and gregarious as they were, they did not pry, and did not ask her a single time why she was in the hospital or even in the Soul Society in the first place.

The most interesting visit came on the last night of her treatment. Unohana assured her that this would be her last night in the hospital and that she could return to her hometown the following day. It was her fifth day in the Soul Society, leaving her with just two days before Tatsuki returned home from her trip and before her grandmother started to worry.

She was in her room with Isane after dinner, finishing her final treatment for the day. Isane's hand was on the door knob, about to leave, when she turned around suddenly and said, "Oh, I almost forgot. You have another visitor waiting to see you. Shall I send him in?"

Butterflies filled her stomach and she nodded, anxiously watching Isane step outside and shut the door. Surely it couldn't be… it had only been a few days since she had seen him, but it seemed like an eternity. She had so much to tell him and she couldn't wait to see his smile and hear his easy laugh. She wondered if all of the hollows had deserted Karakura town since she had left and if he was bored because of it. She wondered what had brought him back to the Soul Society—had he heard? He would be indignant to know that she had been attacked when he wasn't there, but pleased that everything had turned out alright and that her bruise was finally healing.

Several nervous minutes dragged by as she sat on her bed, staring at the door. She wondered if he traveled to the Soul Society the same way Ukitake did or if it was different for every soul reaper. Did you have to have a sword? Were there even soul reapers that didn't have swords? If there had been a clock in the room she would have been counting each second as it ticked by.

Finally, she heard footsteps and a knock on the door.

"Come in," she said eagerly, grin already stretching across her face.

The smile slipped off her face as soon as it opened. It was not Renji who had opened the door.

It was Sora.


	6. hellos and goodbyes

"Renji Abarai. You are being promoted to lieutenant of Division Six of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads. Congratulations."

Renji was standing in one of the reception rooms in Division Six Headquarters. Captain-Commander Yamamoto was standing at the head of the room, giving the announcement.

"Thank you, sir," Renji said, bowing respectfully. "I do not deserve this honor."

The Captain-Commander was an elderly man of obvious authority. He had a long beard, long mustache, and unusually long eyebrows. He carried a staff with him at all times, which he often held in front of him authoritatively (especially when giving important announcements), both hands grasping the top. He had a deep, rough voice, which reminded Renji of heavy stone being scraped over gravel. Standing next to him was the captain of squad six: a tall, regal man from Clan Kuchiki. Renji only had to look at him to know he was from nobility.

In fact, Renji had met Captain Kuchiki once before, when he accidentally interrupted a meeting of the Kuchiki Clan in which Rukia was being inducted into. Even now, as Renji was given the honor of being his lieutenant, Captain Kuchiki did not look at him even once.

"You are to remain in the Soul Society until further direction," Captain-Commander Yamamoto continued. "You will be debriefed at a later time about your new duties and responsibilities as a lieutenant, as well as given your lieutenant's badge."

While Renji was pleased with his promotion, the implications of his new assignment were not lost on him.

"Sir? Does this mean I am no longer assigned to defense in the human world?"

"You are being permanently transferred to the Soul Society, and will remain here unless ordered otherwise. The situation in the area you were overseeing has been taken care of, and no longer needs a permanent soul reaper on duty."

Yes, it was certainly going to get more interesting. Still, Renji's heart sank as he left headquarters, feeling an overpowering sense of loss.

* * *

Orihime did not know how to process what was happening. Sora lived across an ocean, in another country, in another galaxy, one where brothers didn't visit their family or even call on the phone. But here he was standing in front of her, dressed in the standard soul reaper uniform: black robes, white socks, and sandals.

He was a human. It was impossible. People could only become soul reapers after they had died and gone through extensive soul reaper training. Once, he had visited her at her home for a few days when he gave her the barrettes and made her promise to wear them. She had thrown them in her drawer and slammed it shut.

He entered the room and closed the door.

"Hey, Hime," he said, using her old nickname.

She was so angry, she wanted to shake her brother and demand answers. She was so relieved, she wanted to hug him until he couldn't breathe.

Orihime couldn't decide what emotion to act on, so she settled for a question instead.

"What's going on?" she demanded.

Sora smiled sheepishly and ran his fingers through his hair. "It's a long, long story. But you deserve to know. Can I sit down?" he asked, motioning toward the end of the bed.

Orihime nodded dumbly and he took a seat.

"It all begins eleven years ago. Or ends, maybe, depending on how you look at it. It ended for our parents in that car crash. And for me, too. I died with them that day."

He paused and waited for the information to sink in. Orihime's brain was spinning at the speed of light.

"How is that possible?" she demanded. "You were at home, babysitting me. They were coming home from a dinner party late at night and the road was icy. I remember. You were the one who answered the phone."

He shook his head sympathetically. "It wasn't me, Hime. I went to the party with them. Our parents hired a babysitter because you were too little to go." He paused, gathering his words. "I was the one driving."

"But I have memories," Orihime insisted. "I remember it was you answering the phone! And you went to the funeral with me, and you came to Japan with me to take me to our grandmother's! There's no way you could have died!"

"Just give me a moment to explain," Sora said soothingly. "I promise I'll tell you everything. But I have to start from the beginning."

He waited and looked at Orihime. She nodded, trying to keep her emotions in check.

"You were right, it was icy. We had no idea how bad the weather was going to get on our drive back home. It was a steep turn and I was going too fast. We went off the road, rolled down the hill, and hit a tree. Our parents must have died instantly because by the time I finally passed away from my injuries, they had already moved on. There was a soul reaper nearby, waiting for me. He must have seen the whole thing. He told me he was going to perform konso, a soul funeral, and send me to a place called the Soul Society. I asked him if he had done the same to my parents, too. He said yes. I asked if I would see them when I got there and he said he was sorry, but it wasn't likely. He drew his sword and placed the bottom of the hilt against my forehead. It didn't hurt, it kind of felt like I was flying. But when I woke up, sure enough, I was in the Soul Society, in one of the Rukon districts.

"I'm told that most people don't remember the face of the person who performed konso on them, but I've never forgotten. I remember his face in great detail, though I still haven't learned his name or what squad he's in. I guess I still have time to meet him one day," he mused.

Orihime kept herself from interrupting with questions, but urged him to continue.

"I stayed with a really nice family in one of the more wealthy districts. I was lucky. Many people end up in much poorer districts and have a much harder time surviving. I lived with an older man from Germany who had died a century ago and a teenage boy from Taiwan who died just a few years before I did. For some reason, we didn't have any trouble understanding each other. Everyone speaks the same language in the Soul Society.

"We lived that way for a few years until I started to realize I was different from the rest of my neighbors. I was always hungry and couldn't figure out why. I was dead, so why the hell would I have needed to eat? I happened to run into a soul reaper not long after who was meeting with an official in our district who told me my hunger meant that I had strong spiritual pressure and that I should enter the Academy and train to become a soul reaper. I agreed. It's not like I really had anything better to do, although it was hard to say goodbye to my little family.

"I moved into the dorms in the Academy and spent a rough six years undergoing intensive training and competing with all of the other students to be the best student in class. I passed my final exam and was immediately placed in a squad: squad twelve, which also houses the Department of Research and Development. Our captain is Mayuri Kurotsuchi, a man famous for more for his scientific breakthroughs than for his interest in commanding his squad and garnering respect.

"I wasn't really interested in Research and Development, but I visited the labs when I first joined, on a tour given to me by one of the other members. There were so many things the department was creating: fake bodies that soul reapers sometimes inhabit when visiting the world of the living called gigais, objects that would reduce the spiritual pressure of the wearer, a device that soul reapers often take with them to the World of the Living to erase memories, and a variety of other things. I was interested in all these things. I had not forgotten my little sister and missed her dearly, and here was a way I could visit her." He gave her a sheepish smile as he said this and she looked at her lap.

"I snuck into the lab one night, looking for a gigai to borrow. I needed a fake body to be able to visit you. I wasn't sure if you would be able to see me in my spirit form. It was surprisingly easier than I thought, so I borrowed a few other things as well: the memory device and one of the objects that could reduce spiritual pressure. There were all kinds of objects, but I took a pair of barrettes because I figured that my girly little sister would like those the best," he said with a wink.

"I had already learned how to travel back and forth between the Soul Society and the World of the Living. I had done it many times in training to fight hollows. But I decided to sneak in with a group that was doing similar practices—in Tokyo. The Soul Society keeps track of traffic between our world and yours and I didn't want to draw too much attention to myself.

"As soon as we got to the World of the Living, I snuck away and put on my gigai. Thankfully I hadn't forgotten your address from when I wrote it on your suitcase. Such a small detail—I can't believe I remembered it. But I did. It wasn't far from where we had arrived, so I took the subway (how lucky—the gigai even came with a few handfuls of Japanese yen!). Both of you were home. I walked in the front door, both of you looked at my up from your dinner, and I erased all of the memories you had of me dying and replaced them with fake ones. You were still surprised to see me—I hadn't told you I was going to visit. You invited me to dinner. I ate with you and we talked. You were angry at me though. I hadn't contacted you in years, so I imagined you thought I was ignoring you. That's when I gave you the barrettes. You promised you would wear them every day and I hoped you would. I figured if I had spiritual pressure in death, you might have some in life. Then I said goodbye. I knew chances were slim I would ever see you again, even after you died and came to the Soul Society yourself. Though I had hoped that would not be for a while.

"And that's the end of the story. I snuck back into the Soul Society when the students had finished with their exercises and returned the gigai and the memory-erasing device. As far as I know, no one knows that I went. Hopefully it stays that way," he said smiling.

Orihime sat motionless on her bed, trying to absorb all of the information her brother had told her. She was upset to find out that he had died, and angry at herself that she had been angry at him. He had risked his status as a soul reaper to keep her safe and she had blatantly rejected his gift.

She took the barrettes out of her hair and ran her fingers over the snowflakes. "I'm sorry, brother," she whispered. "I didn't wear the barrettes, so this is all my fault. I was so mad that you would never talk to me or return my calls that I refused to wear them until a few days ago. You were just trying to protect me, and I hid your present in a drawer."

He reached out and grabbed her hand. "It's alright, Orihime. I'm just glad I was able to see you. And everything turned out for the better, I'm told."

"It did," she said quietly. "I'm going home tomorrow."

They were silent for a few moments. Orihime wondered how their grandmother would react if she knew.

"Did you see our parents?" she asked hopefully.

Sora shook his head regretfully. "The Rukon districts are huge, so the chance of finding someone after you die is very slim. But they are out there, somewhere."

That sat in the room and talked for a while longer, until Sora said he had to return to his barracks. He gave her a hug before he stepped out the door. "I was glad to see you, Hime," he said.

"You too, brother," she said, meaning it.

It wasn't until after he had gone that she realized that even though several years had passed since Sora had died and become a soul reaper, he had managed to keep all of his memories.

Or at least the important ones.

* * *

Orihime awoke completely refreshed the next morning. She felt a sense of peace she had not felt in a long time. She had met with her brother, the mark was completely gone, and she was going home today to see Renji and her grandmother.

Life would finally be back to normal.

Unohana knocked and came in her room early in the morning followed by Isane. They both greeted Orihime pleasantly and asked to see the mark. Orihime removed the robes that had been lent to her and showed the women her side. It was completely clear; even the bruise on her back had fully healed.

Isane's hands glowed as she put her hand on Orihime's side, apparently checking to make sure it was completely better. She gave her captain a troubled look and said, "You were right."

Unohana nodded. "Just what I was worried about."

Orihime's looked between the two women, suddenly anxious. "What's wrong?"

Unohana nodded at her lieutenant to tell Orihime. Isane sighed and said, "I'm afraid that too much time passed from when you first attained this injury that we could not heal it completely. Even though the mark is gone on the outside, it is not completely healed on the inside. The mark will never spread again, but hollows will still be drawn to you, as if it were still there."

Orihime's stomach dropped. "What does this mean? Does this mean if I go home I'll put my friends and family in danger?" An image of Tatsuki lying injured in an alleyway flashed before her eyes.

"If you were to return to your world as you are now, yes," Unohana said. "But there is still something that we can do. We have to seal all of your spiritual pressure—for good. You will not be able to see hollows and you will be as good as invisible to them as well."

"And—and soul reapers? Will I be able to see them?" Orihime stammered.

"No," Unohana asserted. "You will not be able to see anyone who does not have a physical body. That includes hollows, soul reapers, and souls."

She thought about Renji and the last time she had seen him. She was saying goodbye as she was leaving for Osaka. It had been difficult goodbye. She had grown accustomed to him being such a part of her life that being without him for even a week seemed painful, especially with no way to contact him. It wasn't as if Renji had a cell phone. But she had known she would be back.

And now she would never see him again.

She thought of Tatsuki again, and her grandmother, and all of her other friends at school. People whose lives she would be putting at risk by going home as she was.

Orihime took a deep breath. "Alright," she said. "Tell me what I need to do."


	7. growing wings

"Congratulations, Orihime!" Michiru squealed, crushing her in a hug. For such a small girl, she was unnaturally strong.

Orihime smiled at her friend. "You too, Michiru."

It was mid-March and cherry blossom season was in full swing. Orihime, Tatsuki, and the rest of their group were celebrating with a picnic to look at the beautiful, pink sakura trees. Though it was not a cherry blossom tree, they universally decided to meet under their lunch tree one last time. Now that they had just graduated from high school, this would be the last time they shared a meal together.

Orihime tried not to think about it.

She and her friends had all spend the last few years going to cram school, studying until their eyes felt like bleeding, and pulling their hair out over entrance exams. But they had all passed and were going to college. Tatsuki and Chiziru were going to universities in the area, Michiru was going back to Osaka to study, and Mahana and Ryo were spreading their wings and studying at colleges in Europe.

"I hope I meet a lot of cute boys in France," Mahana announced. "I don't know what I'll do if I come back from college without a hot French boyfriend. I won't be able to show my face in public when I come home."

"Not unless you bring one back for each of us," Tatsuki teased. "Otherwise we'll shun you."

"Tatsuki certainly doesn't need one, but consider it your personal mission to find one for the rest of us," Michiru ordered. Tatsuki had been going steady for months with Kaito, her crush from the karate team. He had graduated the year before was going to a university close by, one that Tatsuki would be attending soon as well.

"I don't have time to worry about you guys," Mahana complained. "A girl's got to take care of herself first."

The argument ended with Tatsuki climbing the tree and throwing nuts at Mahana, everyone gleefully egging the two on. The short-haired girl settled on the lowest branch, grinning, fists full of ammo, Mahana laughing and yelling and trying to dodge.

Orihime felt a pang as she was reminded of a red-haired man she had once seen perching from a tree years ago.

The girls spent what felt like hours under their tree, soaking up the daylight and gazing up dreamily at the deep, blue sky through a web of branches and leaves glowing emerald in the sun's rays. Orihime wished time were a thing she could cup in her hands and never let slip through her fingers.

She at least knew she could hold onto the memories.

Orihime and Tatsuki walked home together after their picnic, reminiscing about their years together in high school. Tatsuki would start college almost immediately, but Orihime had the rest of the spring and summer before she left, though she would be kept busy with her part-time job at the nearby grocery store and preparation for her own college career. It would be late summer before the girls had time to see each other again, and even then Tatsuki had a nationwide karate championship to work around.

Orihime waved goodbye to Tatsuki at her house after the two made plans to meet up at the end of the summer before they started the next stage of their lives.

Orihime sat at her desk that evening. She flipped open her laptop and visited the website of the school she had been accepted to. She had looked at it so many times that her browser was already open to it.

She closed her laptop with a sigh. She had all of the information memorized anyway. The starting date, information about classes she was enrolled in, supplies she would need—she had read this a million times. She looked at little figurine of a cat on her desk. It sat on its haunches, one of its front legs up by its face as if waving at Orihime. Tatsuki had given it to her as a gift a few years ago, after she took a trip to Osaka with her mother.

"Here, Orihime," Tatsuki had grinned, handing Orihime a little wrapped package. "A souvenir. I thought you might like it."

Orihime opened up the little package and a lump formed in her throat. She tried to act excited. "Thanks, Tatsuki."

"I wish you could have come," Tatsuki had said. "It was really fun, and my aunt had plenty of room in her house. Is your grandmother still sick?"

So that was the fake story she had been given. How original.

"No," Orihime said. "She's doing much better."

When Orihime had gotten home from the Soul Society that night, she was only slightly surprised to find her luggage on her bed. She mentally commended Ukitake for how thoroughly he had covered up her tracks.

It wasn't as if she would ever have a chance to thank him in person.

Her grandmother had asked how the trip had been and she gave one word answers, feigning exhaustion. When she was finally excused to go to her room, she wrapped herself up in her bedsheets, cocooning herself from the outside world. There, in her nest of blankets, she was safe.

Orihime began to cry.

She cried for all the things she hadn't been able to say, all the people she hadn't been able to thank. She cried with relief that she would never again be the reason for putting a loved one in danger and for all the horror she would never have to go through. She cried for the friend she would never see again, for the relationship she had been forced to sacrifice for the good of others. She wondered if he was still in her town or if he had already moved on. She would never know.

* * *

The rest of spring and summer passed by Orihime in a haze and finally August sauntered in. All of Orihime's bags were packed, her room almost bare. She said goodbye to the bed she slept on for eleven years and to the desk she had cried on over homework for what felt like even longer.

Tatsuki and her grandmother were seeing her off. Orihime had already said goodbye to everyone else. Orihime came downstairs, massive suitcase and carry-on in tow.

"Is that all you're taking, Orihime? I bet with another bag you could keep a small city supplied for a month," Tatsuki teased.

"Shush, Tatsuki," Orihime bantered back. "They say it gets so cold in New York during the winter. I need to bring plenty of warm clothes with me."

"Don't forget the crayons I gave you. You can't be a real art student if you don't have crayons."

Orihime smiled. She had received plenty of art supplies from her grandmother and friends for graduation. Tatsuki's family had been the most generous, giving her expensive paints that she would need. Tatsuki had given her a box of crayons, too, as a joke.

"All packed," she said.

The two women hugged her and Orihime stepped out the door, heading towards the subway station a few blocks away. Orihime had never been able to thank Tatsuki for the conversation in Osaka her friend doubtless didn't remember. It was because of her that Orihime had found the courage to leave Karakura Town and seek out adventures.

She stood at the intersection, waiting to cross. She couldn't wait to tell Tatsuki about all of the places she would visit. She would be so jealous. The light turned green and she stepped out onto the street. She wondered what kind of food they had in New York. She hoped there were plenty of new ingredients to experiment with.

Orihime felt a massive force connect with her side and she was thrown to the ground, falling, falling. She let go of her suitcase and it skidded across the street. Her senses jumbled together. Pain flashed across her vision, she smelled asphalt, heard blood rushing in her ears. She felt people sprinting towards her in distress. It didn't matter anymore.

She was flying.

She was a kite again, this time untethered. She was soaring up, up, no pesky string keeping her tied down. She wondered how high and how fast she could go.

This must have been what it felt like to grow wings.


	8. I'll meet you there

Being lieutenant was not as glamorous as Renji thought it would be. He spent less time fighting hollows and more time fighting piles of paperwork. The pay was better though. Only a few more months until he saved up enough money to buy a new pair of sunglasses. Renji loved expensive sunglasses.

And he did miss being in the Soul Society. He missed having an actual room and an actual bed and being noticed (and admired) by people as he walked down the street. He missed the hours he spent training with his friends from squad eleven. He was so close to achieving bankai, he could taste it.

Every time he convinced himself that he was finally content with his life, he remembered orange hair and the room of a human girl that he had spent so much time in. Being in the World of the Living was like being on the battlefield, a sensation that every soul reaper lived for. Having mock fights with other soul reapers was only so interesting. Fighting hollows every day, knowing that you could die in each battle, yet overcoming it, knowing that you were stronger—that was living.

And it didn't hurt when you had a human girl to spend your evenings with.

No, being lieutenant was certainly less glamorous than he thought.

Renji took every opportunity he had to go to the human world. He knew that he would most likely never see her again, but it made him feel closer to her, just to know they were in the same world for a few hours. Today, he had volunteered along with two other officials to lead a group of soul reapers-in-training from the Academy to practice fighting hollows and carrying out konsos. He didn't expect it to be very exciting, but it was better than nothing.

He arrived at the meeting place early so that he could discuss logistics with the other two officials. Renji was familiar with the area, so they relied on his expertise.

The rest of the students trickled in and Renji split them up into groups. The group was full of newbies: no older than first years or second years. He guessed this was their first time ever going to the World of the Living. Well, since after they'd died, of course.

Renji barked out a few instructions, pleased and amused to see how the students were hanging on to his every word. He wondered if he had been like that once, too. He doubted it.

He turned and used his sword to open the portal to the human world.

Every time he went back, it felt a little bit like coming home.

* * *

How boring it was to be invisible.

Being human meant craving interaction with others. It meant having a deep longing to be noticed, to be admired. In elementary school, Orihime remembered talking in class about what they would do if they could disappear completely from sight. It was a simple class discussion meant to develop social skills and taking turns talking and all that nonsense. She remembered her classmates offering ideas such as scaring their friends and stealing treats from the kitchen at home. Adventurous Orihime thought about riding the bullet train for free and traveling all around Japan.

Now that Orihime actually was invisible, she had a very different outlook.

Being invisible sucked.

All she could do was watch helplessly as her friends grieved and as her grandmother made funeral arrangements. She wanted to yell that she was right here, that she could hear them talking about her. It eventually became too painful for her to bear, so she wandered off.

The city was a different place at night, not that she had a reason to be scared of thieves or muggers. Still, Orihime wished she could curl up in her bed and make a cocoon in her blankets, like she did every time she was upset.

She wandered down by her favorite bakery. It had long been closed for the night, but Orihime could still smell the fresh bread. She came here after school as much as possible. She was very good friends with the owner, who often gave her free pastries for her frequent business.

It was completely silent. Orihime estimated that it must have been one or two in the morning. She wished she could go to sleep.

Suddenly, a very loud, familiar noise sounded in the distance. It was one that she had not heard for years: the shriek of a hollow. It brought back memories of warm blankets, red hair, and strong hands lifting her off the ground. She welcomed it. Seconds passed, and she heard the shriek again, this time accompanied by other shouts.

She walked toward the noise, and then ran.

She was rewarded with a very unusual sight: a group of several soul reapers confronting a giant, bug-like hollow. Orihime guessed that these soul reapers were still in training. Not only were they wearing red and blue robes rather than black, they were also having an excessive amount of difficultly working together to defeat the creature. She watched for a few seconds and was surprised to feel a warm hand on her shoulder.

"Orihime," the voice said. She turned around.

She had never been so happy to see someone in her life. It took all of her self-control to not crush him in a hug.

Renji looked like he was torn between pleasure and distress at seeing her.

"You're dead," he said.

"Yep," she responded. "Hit by a car."

How ironic that every member of her family had now died in a car-related accident. Well, maybe ironic wasn't the right word. She would have to think about that.

"How long have you been dead?" he asked.

"Several hours. Being dead really drags. I've just been wandering around all day," she complained. She did not mention that watching your friends grieve over your mangled body was worse than the pain of actually dying.

"Are you here to send me to the Soul Society?"

Renji glanced back at the soul reapers who were still engaging the hollow. "Yes. I'm here training new recruits, but they look a little busy still."

He could not put into words, but he did not want anyone else to perform a soul funeral on his gentle friend. It felt strangely intimate and he was secretly glad they were still struggling with their battle.

"What should I do? How does this work? Should I kneel?" Orihime asked lightheartedly. "I've never done this before."

Renji felt a small smile tugging at his lips. She had lost none of her spirit, even in death.

"No, you don't have to kneel. I'm going to place the hilt of my sword against your forehead. It won't hurt, and you should wake up in the Soul Society before you know it."

Orihime nodded and closed her eyes. "I missed you, Renji."

Renji hefted his sword over his shoulder. "Come find me in the Soul Society, Orihime. You have to become a soul reaper to leave the Rukon districts, but you can do it. You're strong. I'll be waiting for you there."

Orihime nodded again and felt a strong pressure against her temple, and then a familiar sensation of flying.

* * *

Orihime's funeral took place three days later. Renji couldn't stop himself from going. He missed a mandatory lieutenant meeting, but he didn't really care.

He hid in a corner in the back, not that anyone would notice him even if he sat in the front row. He had become unused to being invisible.

The funeral was beyond depressing. Many of Orihime's friends spoke, telling stories and praising all of her good qualities. Orihime recognized a short-haired girl that Orihime often walked home from school with. Her eyes were empty and she looked like she had not slept in several days. He wondered if there had been a funeral for him, too, when he died.

The service ended and Renji slipped out the back, still unsure of why he had decided to come in the first place. He placed his hand on his sword, ready to open the door to go back home. Now that Orihime did not exist in this world anymore, he no longer felt drawn to it.

"Wait," a voice called out behind him.

He knew it was not addressed to him, but he turned around anyway. A small, shrunken woman with eyes full of grief and desperation was looking right at him, eyes boring into his. He looked behind him. They were the only ones outside.

"Yes, I can see you. I don't know who you are or where you're from, but that doesn't matter. I know that you were friends with my Orihime."

Renji stayed silent, unsure if he should respond to the woman.

"You don't have to say anything," she said, as if she could read his thoughts. "Just listen. I know you are from beyond. I've watched you for many years, running around our town, jumping from building to building. I know you took care of Orihime while she was here. So if you can, keep looking after her, wherever she is. My granddaughter was precious to me and it would comfort me greatly to know that she still has someone taking care of her."

Renji nodded. "I promise," he said, and was gone.


	9. finding a reason

It was so bright. Orihime opened her eyes, squinting in the sun. Being dead was so uncomfortable. The hot sun was shining down on her face, her clothes were scratchy, and she was hungry.

"She's awake!" she heard a voice exclaim. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the light before she could see. When her vision was finally clear, she looked around. She was lying on her back on the dusty ground. Two girls were crouched over her, eying her with a concern that quickly transformed to delight as soon as she looked at them.

The girls were young, Orihime guessed maybe nine or ten. They looked as if they could have been sisters. They were dressed in simple kimonos and wore plain straw sandals.

"Is this the Soul Society?" she asked the girls.

They nodded. "This is Rukon District number 17," one of them said.

Oh good. She wasn't sure how, but somehow she knew that 17 was a good number. It was small, and that made it better.

Orihime pulled herself up to a sitting position.

"What are your names?" she asked the girls.

"I'm Noriko," introduced one of the girls.

"And I'm Haruka," greeted the other.

"We're sisters," Noriko explained. "We'll not really—we're not actually related. But we live together so that means we're basically family. We also have a mom who's not really our mom. Would you like to come meet her?"

"Maybe you can stay with us!" Haruka added. "It looks like you just came from the World of the Living. Do you have a dwelling yet?"

The World of the Living. That sounded right. This was definitely her first time in the Soul Society.

Orihime shook her head. The girls grabbed her hands and helped her up, leading her out of the side street where she had woken up and deeper into town.

They crossed a busy street, crowded with vendors, people shopping, and loud voices filling the air. A few of the villagers recognized the girls and greeted them cheerfully. Everyone was dressed similarly to the girls, in simple kimonos, but no one seemed destitute and the atmosphere was cheerful.

"Here it is," Noriko announced. "This is our house."

She gestured to the tiny shelter in front of them. It was entirely made of wood, aside from the roof, which was made from straw. Orihime noted that parts of it could use some work, but it seemed extremely tidy, as if the doorstep had just been swept the moment they arrived.

Noriko opened the door and stepped inside, followed by her sister and an uncertain Orihime. "Mom! Look who we found!"

A middle-aged woman greeted them, drying her hands with a towel. She looked nothing like the two girls: her hair was fire red, her eyes were bright green, and while the girls were slight and delicate, she was sturdy and solid.

She smiled kindly at Orihime. "It's nice to meet you. My name's Aileen. I'm the girls' adopted mother."

To Orihime's ears, it seemed as if she were speaking perfect Japanese, but Orihime guessed by her appearance she was from nowhere near Japan.

Orihime nodded and introduced herself as well. "Orihime Inoue."

"You must be recent. Do you remember where you came from?" The woman asked.

Orihime frowned, brow furrowed. She couldn't remember anything other than her name. She shook her head.

"That's alright," Aileen assured her. "It takes a few days before the memories start trickling back. Not all of them, mind you, but the important ones, such as where and when you're from."

"That's comforting," Orihime sighed. "It's frustrating not knowing who you are."

"Why don't you stay with us?" The older woman suggested. "I wouldn't mind having another daughter."

Orihime had found her family. She wondered if it was her first one.

* * *

Weeks passed, and Orihime felt herself becoming more and more at home with her new sisters and mother.

And she finally remembered where she came from: Karakura town, near Tokyo, in Japan. That was the only detail she had managed to pull out of the abyss that used to be her memories. Still, she figured, that was probably the most important detail. But it would have been nice to know if she'd once had a family like this one, or friends, or sisters. Sometimes she found herself watching her new family and noticed something familiar about how her mother drank tea, daintily sipping at the rim, or in the way her sisters wrestled, giggling and mock punching each other. In these moments, she felt as if she could almost grasp something, but it slipped away from her like smoke in between her fingers.

She was extremely curious about life around her and was constantly peppering the two girls with questions. She learned more and more about her district and about the massive, marble wall of the seireitei towering in the distance and the so-called "soul reapers" who lived there.

"I'm going to become a soul reaper," Orihime announced, as she helped her sisters carry a heavy bucket of water back to their home.

Two pairs of eyes stared at her curiously. "Why?" they asked.

Why? That was a good question. Orihime didn't have a reason.

"I just am," she asserted.

If only she knew how to become one.

At night, Orihime shared a bed with her youngest sister, Haruka. Noriko shared one with their mother. Orihime learned that the two girls were also both from Japan, but from different ends. Noriko was from northern Hokkaido while Haruka was from the southernmost tip of Japan. They had also died recently—about five years before Orihime.

Orihime fell asleep easily most nights, comforted by her sister's breathing. She rarely dreamed. Some nights, though, she lay awake staring at the stars winking at her through her window, feeling a sense of longing she couldn't identify, as if she were meant for somewhere else and someone was waiting for her. Though she could not see that tall white tower from her window by her bed, she spent many evenings sitting on their "porch" (in actuality, just a couple of wooden planks nailed together to look like steps), gazing off into the direction of the wall that separated these two worlds that rarely touched. Staring at the tower filled Orihime with a yearning so deep it threatened to rise up and consume her. She couldn't bear to look for long.

She turned her head away from the window to where her mother and younger sister were sleeping. Even in the dim light, she could still make out her mother's fiery red hair. She knew someone once who had red hair. But she had forgotten what he'd looked like. What had been his name? Her eyes began to drift shut.

Red hair.

She bolted suddenly upright. "Renji," she breathed.

A torrent of memories flooded into her, engulfing her, leaving her breathless. The rooftop. Yelling at the man perched in the trees. A sword drawn, the figure holding it crouched to protect her. A warm arm wrapped around her, pulling her towards home. A hand on her shoulder, a comforting voice encouraging her, promising to wait. Giving her a purpose after death.

Orihime looked back out at the stars, towards the direction of the bone white tower she couldn't see. "I'm coming," she whispered into the darkness.

She had found her reason to become a soul reaper.

 **Sooooo this was originally going to be my last chapter. But I have so much more Orihime/Renji goodness I want to write and I can't just leave Orihime where she is. So there will be more chapters, sometime in the future when I am not overwhelmed with school. Stay tuned for part 2 :)**


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